


Vinny can have two besties

by youcouldmakealife



Series: Vinny gets a life [20]
Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-15
Updated: 2015-09-15
Packaged: 2018-04-20 22:55:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4805273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youcouldmakealife/pseuds/youcouldmakealife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The door opens, and Thomas hears Carmen say, “Vinny has a girlfriend?” sounding awed.</p>
<p>“It’s his best friend,” Anton says flatly, his default voice when he’s talking to Carmen.</p>
<p>“You’re not Vinny’s best friend?” Carmen asks, sounding even more awed. “I think my world view just shifted.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vinny can have two besties

Thomas is more than a little excited for Megan’s arrival. It’s like he’s a kid waiting for Christmas or the first game of the season, because it’s been months. Meg’s got a crazy hectic job, and obviously Thomas’ own schedule is kind of erratic, but he doesn’t think he’s gone so long without seeing her since they were kids and instead he’d be wriggling around waiting for the annual trip the Walters would make to Sudbury. 

“God, your happy gives me a headache,” Anton tells him grumpily after three days, but no one else seems to notice. 

He mentions it when Chloe skypes him the day before Megan’s set to arrive, glee bubbling over. 

“I’m with Petrov, you’re burning my eyes out,” she says. “Everyone thinks you’re sunshine all the time, but you have UV levels, Vincent, and I need you to dial them back.”

“Dialing back,” Thomas says solemnly, and she gives him an approving nod. 

“Man,” she says. “I’m kind of glad to be in Chicago for ‘Vin and Meg’ time.” She doesn’t use finger quotes, but he can hear them anyway. 

Thomas frowns. “I thought you liked Megan?” he asks. She stayed with him a decent amount of times when he was living with the Fourniers, both of them pleased with the two hour distance, rather than long trip from Ottawa to Hamilton, and she got along pretty well with the Fourniers, at least he thought so. It’s usually pretty easy to tell when Chloe doesn’t like someone, and the girls liked her, which is always a toss up. Last time Carmen tried to play with them he came out of it injured and pouty, and if Anton was the kind of guy who pouted, Thomas bets they’d make him pout too.

“I do,” Chloe says. “But the two of you together are a headache. Especially when you start singing.”

“I’m never a headache,” Thomas protests.

“I have a migraine named after you, Thomas,” she says, and laughs when he pouts at her.

“Don’t worry,” she says. “I have three named after Vanessa. You’re only my second most problematic child.”

Thomas would argue the kid thing, but it kind of makes him happy, so he doesn’t. He’d make a good Fournier kid.

“How many does Mich get?” Thomas asks curiously.

“All of them,” she mutters.

He clears Meg with security before the game, which means that when he’s coming out of the locker room he knows to keep alert. That was a good decision, since Megan comes flying over, and he has to catch her before they both go barreling over.

“I haven’t seen you in forever,” Megan mumbles.

Thomas squeezes her lightly, pleased to see she’s wearing a Vincent jersey, though it’s a Bulldogs one and not a Habs one, probably to keep _Eric’s_ blood pressure down.

They’re blocking the door, so he wobbles over to the side of the hall, Megan still clinging tightly to his neck. The door opens, and Thomas hears Carmen say, “Vinny has a girlfriend?” sounding awed.

“It’s his best friend,” Anton says flatly, his default voice when he’s talking to Carmen.

“You’re not Vinny’s best friend?” Carmen asks, sounding even more awed. “I think my world view just shifted.”

Thomas thinks it might be time to put Meg down before Anton commits violence towards Sandro. 

“Oh shit, serial killer time,” Megan says into his neck.

“Don’t make me drop you, Meg,” Thomas says, but she gets down on her own volition.

“Hi Anton,” she says cheerfully.

“Hi Megan,” Anton says.

“Going to join us for movie night?” she asks. “I know we call it Vin and Meg night, but you’re welcome to come. It’s your house too.”

“No thank you,” Anton says politely, and Thomas frowns. “I have plans.”

“Hello Vinny’s actual best friend!” Carmen says. “I’m Sandro!”

Anton glares at Carmen, and Thomas almost misses it, because he is also glaring at Carmen. Way to make things worse. He considers a plan of action for a moment, and then steps on Carmen’s foot.

“Fuck, Vinny,” Carmen says. “Okay!”

“You cross-checked Carruthers last game,” Megan says dryly. “He got a concussion. I know who you are.”

“Aw, shit, a Sens fan, Vinny?” Carmen asks. “First Petrov and then a Sens fan? You need better taste, man.”

“Dude, you’re gonna get cross-checked if you don’t shut up,” Megan says. “Anton’s got murder in his eyes.”

She always thinks Anton has murder in his eyes, but she’s right this time. 

“I like you,” Carmen says. “Even if you’re a Sens fan. You keep this one, Vinny.”

“Planning on it,” Thomas says. 

“I’m gonna go not be near near Murder Eyes,” Carmen says. “Thanks for the new nickname, Vinny’s BFF, I was getting bored of Russian ones.”

Megan waves as he dashes off.

“I’m going to Amanda’s,” Anton says, and then stalks off after Carmen.

“Think Sandro needs a rescue?” Megan asks.

“Sandro doesn’t deserve one,” Thomas says, then offers his arm to Megan. “Shall we?”

“We shall,” she says, linking her arm in his.

The house doesn’t feel so big when he’s walking in with someone else, especially when that someone makes noise like Megan does, dropping her overnight bag with a thump in the hallway, then poking around, checking out the ground floor, before making a beeline for the fridge and getting a beer.

“You drink my fave?” Megan asks. “Or is it Anton?”

“We don’t usually drink beer unless we’re out with the team,” Thomas shrugs. “I picked it up.”

“Aw,” she says, and then, “And you call yourself hockey players?”

“I’m only one like a quarter of the season,” Thomas says. “Anton’s pretty good, though.”

She comes over and ruffles his hair. He has to bend down a bit to facilitate it, but she manages in the end. “Quit it,” she says. “No self-pity today.”

“Not self-pity,” Thomas says. “Fact.”

“No self-deprecation, then,” she says. “I declare this a self-deprecation free zone.”

“You are in the wrong house for that,” Thomas tells her.

“Boys,” she scoffs. “Okay, pour yourself a glass of wine and tell me about Murder Eyes.”

“C’mon, Meg, _really_?” Thomas asks.

“Sandro’s right, it’s catchy,” she says. “Wine. Now.”

Thomas pours himself a glass and they resettle in the living room. He asks her about work, and she gives him a narrow eyed look like she’s onto him, but she loves her job, and he likes listening to her talk about it, even if all the legal stuff is totally over his head, and she occasionally has to stop in the middle of a story, assess confidentiality, and then tell him, unconvincingly, “it wasn’t that interesting anyway.”

He gets it. There’s shit that doesn’t leave the locker room, though he’s pretty sure it’s a little different when you could be, like, sued. Could she be sued? He doesn’t know.

After she goes and gets beer three, she gives him another narrow eyed look, and then tops off his wine glass without asking. “Murder eyes,” she says.

“He doesn’t have murder eyes,” Thomas protests. Except tonight. He had them tonight, but then, Thomas thinks most of the team has, at one point or another, when it comes to Sandro. He’s good at getting under people’s skin.

She pokes his thigh with her toes. “You’re not distracting me,” she says. “I deal with witnesses, Vinny. _Witnesses and lawyers_. I let you have your stalling time, but now you need to spill. You’ll feel better.”

“I feel dumb,” Thomas says.

“Talking about it isn’t—” Megan starts.

“No, I mean,” Thomas interrupts, then, realising that was rude, “Sorry.”. She waves it off. “I just — who does that? Who just like…ruins everything with feelings?”

“Like everyone ever, Vin?” Megan says. “You are not the first person to get a crush on their best friend. Exhibit A.” She points at herself.

He smiles reluctantly. “It’s not a crush, though,” he says. “I mean. I don’t think. I don’t really know.”

“Oh honey,” she says, “did you feel like this before you moved in?”

“Yeah?” Thomas says. “For a few years, I guess.”

“I genuinely don’t know whether to be impressed you lasted that long without telling me, or hit you,” Megan says. “Also was moving in really a good idea?”

“My mom didn’t think so,” he says.

“Hélène’s a smart lady,” Megan says. “Oh Vinny, don’t look at me like that, c’mere.”

He tips over so he’s got his head on her shoulder.

“I assume Anton doesn’t know about this?” she asks.

“Don’t think so,” Thomas mumbles. “He’s just been — Anton. Don’t say Murder Eyes.”

“You never let me have fun,” she says, rubbing lightly over his back. “Okay, I need you to fill in, like, the last few years, then. Jerk.”

When he’s done he’s finished his glass of wine, and Megan’s topped them both up. She doesn’t say anything when he’s talking, which is super weird for her, but he appreciates it, because he doesn’t know if he could start again if she interrupted.

“Look, far be it for me to admit I don’t know everything ever,” Megan says.

“You don’t?” Thomas asks.

“Hush, you,” Megan says, sounding exactly like her mom, but Thomas knows if he says so he’s in for a world of pain. “I am here for moral support, I can moral support the shit out of this, but I basically barely know Anton, so I have like zero real advice for you that isn’t jokes about murder. What if you talked to, like, Fourns about it or something? He knows him better than I do, and you guys are still in touch. Or Chloe! I like Chloe, she definitely knows what’s up.”

“He doesn’t know about —” Thomas starts, then just weakly gestures at himself.

“Like he’d give a shit,” Megan says, and then, when Thomas opens his mouth, louder, “Seriously, like he’d give a shit, Vin. He fucking adores you.”

“Fourns adores me, Tony’s apparently madly in love with me,” Thomas says, ticking them off on his fingers.

“Megan’s right about everything,” Megan says, “oh, and Connors is a douche.”

Thomas giggles into his wine glass.

“But seriously, Thomas,” Megan says, and she’s using her Serious Voice, which is rare, and calling him Thomas, which is rarer still, so Thomas pays attention. “You like…hide shit, because you think people won’t like you, or something, I don’t even know, but how do you expect them to know what’s up if you don’t tell them?”

“I’m not hiding shit,” Thomas says.

“How many people know you’re ace?” Megan asks.

“S’a stupid word,” Thomas says.

“Labels matter,” Megan says flatly. “How many?”

“You know how many,” Thomas mutters.

“Okay, so still me and your parents. You know who probably would like to know?” Megan asks, starting to tick them off on her fingers because she’s dramatic. “Oh, maybe Fourns and Chloe. Or maybe the teammate who is _openly on the spectrum_. Or, oh, let’s see. I know! Maybe Anton.”

She waggles four fingers at him. 

“Meg,” Thomas snaps.

“Kay, leaving it,” Megan says. “Only because you’re clearly exhausted, I need my Moulin Rouge fix, even if your singing is what nightmares are made of, and I also need to bitch about Eric.”

“Eric’s perfect,” Thomas says, mimicking Megan.

“Eric’s an ass, is what he is,” Megan says. “He’s on a gluten free kick and he’s trying to drag me to hell right with him.”

“Good work on the gluten free,” Thomas says, nodding at her beer.

“Speaking of which, if you have some bread, I’d kill for toast right now,” Megan says.

“Coming right up,” Thomas says. 

Megan multitasks setting up the movie while complaining about the diet loud enough Thomas can hear her from the kitchen. “Shh, no sing alongs”, she says, when he returns with her toast, but Thomas knows she totally loves his voice, deep down, and besides, she always sings along too.

Megan falls asleep three quarters of the way through the movie, and they’ve seen it enough times Thomas just rescues her beer bottle and tilts her until she’s in a more comfortable position, head in his lap, idly running his fingers through her hair where it’s fallen out of its braid. Shortly after two he hears Anton comes in.

“Everything okay?” Thomas asks, quiet, when he can feel Anton in the living room doorway, trying not to wake Megan, because she’s had a crazy amount of overtime this week.

“Fine,” Anton says, “Just need to hit the gym early. Doesn’t she have a boyfriend?”

“Eric?” Thomas says. “Yeah, why?”

“You think he’d be okay with this?” Anton asks.

Eric’s got three siblings, which is three more than Thomas and Megan have, and half the time he seems like he hates them, but the other half of the time he seems to have the sort of relationship Thomas has with Meg. Thomas knows what Anton’s implying, though, and it’s stupid, and probably one of the reasons Megan’s all rah rah ‘tell Anton, tell Fourns and Chloe! Tell Lapointe, who would probably turn it into a big deal for no reason!’. 

“Hey, at least he knows I’m not going to hit on her,” Thomas says, trying for light.

Anton’s taken aback, at least it seems like that from the silence that follows. Thomas isn’t going to bother to crane his neck around to attempt to gauge him.

“Don’t stay up too late,” Anton says finally.

“Thanks, dad,” Thomas says.

“He’s an ass,” Megan mumbles a minute later, when Anton’s gone upstairs, presumably to bed.

“The sad thing is I don’t even know if you’re talking in your sleep,” Thomas says, low.

Megan pinches his thigh. Not talking in her sleep, then. She sits up slowly.

“I worry about you, kid,” she says.

“Three weeks older than me,” Thomas says, reflexive, which is deja vu to his protests that he’s only a month older than Anton. Clearly he needs more Fourns friends, old and wise, though Fourns probably wouldn’t appreciate the first thing.

“Heart wants what it wants,” she says, broken up by a yawn. “But he’s still an oblivious ass.”

“Sleep in my bed?” Thomas asks. “I’ll take the couch.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she says. “Like your poor messed up goalie back can take it. Besides, I want extra glares in the morning.”

Thomas gives her a disapproving look, likely a waste of energy in the low light. 

“Bedtime, Vinny,” she says, and he follows her up, brushing his teeth beside her in the bathroom, feeling like he’s a little kid again, and he’s the only kid whose parents are cool enough to allow a co-ed sleepover, though he never got why that made them cool, because it was just Meg. 

He remembers they have guest rooms, even though they’ve been designated — Anton’s parents, Thomas’ parents — and decorated accordingly, but by that point Meg’s legitimately mumbling in her sleep, and Thomas is tired, so there’s no point bothering. If Anton’s weird about it in the morning, he’s weird about it. Thomas’ most exciting adventures happen in Anton’s head. Sometimes he wishes he could be what Anton seems to think he is.

“Cauliflower,” Megan mumbles, or at least something that sounds like it, and Thomas curls his body into hers and goes to sleep.


End file.
